


Operate and Overthrow

by throwaway100



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Character Study, Dissociation, Gen, Objectification, Technoblade-centric (Video Blogging RPF), Wilbur Soot and Technoblade and TommyInnit are Siblings, can't decide between piglin anime or hybrid techno so iss ambiguous, kinda? v introspective, no beta we die like tubbo from fall damage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-28
Updated: 2021-01-28
Packaged: 2021-03-14 04:07:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29039850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/throwaway100/pseuds/throwaway100
Summary: The realisation that this was their plan all along hits him like a freight train; the impact is too fast for him to really feel anything at all.There are four certain truths that unravel before him:1. This entire time their definition of ‘Retake L’Manberg’ was clearly different from his own.2. There is no way that they wouldn't have known this.3. They have willfully kept him ignorant while taking every inch of him.4. He has given all that he is to a cause he does not believe in.OrThe one about how on the day of the revolution, from Techno’s perspective, he was betrayed.
Comments: 6
Kudos: 81





	Operate and Overthrow

The wind whipping through the air was violent, lashing at Technoblade’s cloak as he trudged forward into the icy tundra. The ground was almost blindingly white with the thick coat of snow. 

He had to squint as he charged forward, an arm in front of his face, to keep the wind from physically pushing him back. Back towards L’Manberg. Or at least the smoking crater Techno and his brother had left it. 

It was interesting, in a terrible, morbid way, that Wilbur had been the only one of his family to side with him in the end. Wilbur, the one who had always been obsessed with politics and factions (and more subtly, _power_ ). The one who had always naturally fallen into controlling and corrupting positions was also the one that had actually listened to what Technoblade had to say. Listened and agreed with him. 

It was certainly interesting. But somehow, the endorsement of a madman didn’t alleviate the burn in Techno’s chest. 

Maybe it was a commentary on his own mental state. Being bathed in blood for a lifetime isn’t known for doing much for a man’s sanity. 

But that couldn’t be right, because Techno knows that he is being logical. That government’s only purpose is to provide security and support; allow the innovation of individuals who would otherwise be occupied fighting for their lives. And even when such a purpose is served, those in power prove, time and time again, that they are too weak and greedy to resist the temptation to exploit their people. 

All of the past leaders of L’Manberg had shown themselves to be tyrannical in tendency and yet the tiny false-nation couldn’t even provide security. It did the opposite, in fact. It was the cause of every major conflict within the confines of Dream SMP but everyone kept fighting for it. They kept clamoring over themselves to maintain the ideals of a social hierarchy that was started for the sake of power. 

Technoblade tried. He tried so hard to explain himself to them. He stated his beliefs from the start. He thought they were listening. But he might as well have been talking to the wind.

-

It was the morning of the revolution when Technoblade finally emerged from the nether with almost a full stack of ancient debris in his inventory. 

It had probably been unwise to spend the entire night before the largest battle the SMP had ever seen sleepless, grinding for unholy amounts of netherite and gunpowder, but he had four empty armour stands left in his vault. And Wilbur wasn’t the only one with a taste for dramatics. 

He crawled back to his base, avoiding any and all human contact whilst at low durability and covered head to toe in soot and netherrack, finished his preparations, and set off to meet with the rest of Pogtopia. 

The meetup was initially as chaotic and unproductive as Technoblade had grown to expect -and maybe, though he would never admit it, enjoy- from the entire Pogtopia crew. Fundy, Tubbo, Quackity and Niki roped him into an attempted strategy meeting whilst they waited for Wilbur and Tommy that resulted in a grand total of zero new strategies being discussed. 

Wilbur and Tommy finally arrived, half an hour late, but just in time to distract the entire group from an inane argument about allegiances. Techno’s patience was beginning to run thin and his brothers must have been able to tell because Wilbur stuck by his side as Tommy immediately started ushering the group towards the ravine. 

Finally, after a good bit of discussion over fatuous things like kingships and foxes, Tommy brought up the difference in equipment between themselves and Schlatt’s army, at which point Technoblade herded the group like a gang of stray cats towards his underwater base, and then, finally, the vault.

All day Techno’s ears had been pounding from bedmining explosions and the palms of his hands were irritated and scratchy, but the second he saw Pogtopia’s reaction to the vault he knew that every uncomfort had been worth it. The reaction on Tommy’s face was worth more than a few long nights. 

The mood of the entire party seems to shift in an instant. From the morbid gallows humor that had been following them since dawn into a nervous excitement. There is shock in Wilbur’s eyes. This is the hope that they’ve been looking for. Technoblade knew from the very start that they could win this and it seems like the rest of the group is catching on. They have the power to take down the government. Take down Schlatt.

Techno can admit that the reactions of each one of their group members is validating, but Wilbur and Tommy are the ones whose faces his eyes are glued too whilst people holler and cheer as they sort through chests all around them. Wilbur and Tommy both meander around the room as well, inspecting the chests, and share a look. Wilbur grins widely. 

It looks odd, not because he hasn’t smiled as often since his exile, but because the faint tint of malice that he’s been carrying in his grin for a while now is absent. It makes him look younger, reminding Techno of simpler times; two kids sat on the porch of a cottage, the shadow of wings covering them as guitar strings are plucked in a gentle melody.

”We’ve got the Blade!”, present Wilbur exclaims, a hand on Tommy’s shoulder. Excited energy bubbles from him so fervently that the nickname, the one that makes him uncomfortable for a reason he can’t quite place, feels more endearing than anything else. 

Wilbur evidently notices Techno staring at the interaction and catches his eye. Tommy follows his gaze and spins around towards him. With an animated action that gives away his age, Tommy throws himself at Technoblade in a sort of bodyslam-hug, laughing in glee. Techno huffs at the impact, freezes, then slowly brings his arms up to reciprocate the action awkwardly. Wilbur chuckles and Techno half-heartedly glares at him over Tommy’s shoulder. He’s not good at physical contact.

Soon enough, Pogtopia loads up with as much equipment as they can all reasonably carry (and then some more items Techno forces upon them). They go over their final battle plans and get ready to set off.

“Let’s get L’Manberg back, baby!”

-

When the dark figures stood at the top of what was once Eret’s watchtower started firing arrows down upon them, Techno knew that the battle had officially started.

His allies clumsily dodge and weave through the rain of arrows, eventually reaching the base and storming the tower. 

They all rush towards the ladder. Frustrated, seeing the only entryway clogged and the enemy above, Techno takes out his trident and propels himself upwards, ascending the rough stone of the tower. He hears Wilbur holler excitedly below him and he cannot hold back a wide, bloodthirsty grin. Now _this_ , he’s good at. 

Schlatt’s army of mercenaries are pushed further and further up the tower until they finally have to escape down to the ground below, conceding the high ground. The situation is flipped. Technoblade and his companions now rain arrows and fireworks from the tower onto the enemy below, but Technoblade recognises that they don’t have enough firepower to cover the distance and progress isn’t being made. He makes a decision.

Techno yells out, over the explosions, and ushers Tommy and Tubbo further from the tower’s edges, behind cover. He hands them both multi-shot crossbows and a stack of fireworks. 

It probably says something about him that he feels closer to his youngest brother than he has in years in that moment; as he teaches Tommy how to use a crossbow in the middle of an active warzone. 

But Tommy has always glamorised combat. He’s always made it clear that he is jealous of Techno’s ability -and allowance- to fight, whether it be for the sake of competition, the pursuit of justice or simply to satisfy the voices in his head. 

It’s an envy that Techno has never really known how to shoot down. Phil and Wilbur weren’t fighters and Techno was born into combat -he’s never really done anything else- so none of them have been able to nip Tommy’s gusto for blood and glory in the bud and Techno can admit to himself that it’s driven an uncomfortable wedge between them.

He doesn’t know how to describe to his brother the shame and guilt that overtakes him when the action is over. He doesn’t really want to. When the adrenaline and bloodlust is gone, you need to confront the fact at each and every one of your enemies is a living creature with just as much potential and ties that bind as yourself and everyone you care about. 

The rush of the kill in combat is nothing compared to the knowledge that you are personally responsible for all of the things someone will never be able to do. There's no romance in that.

But right now, Tommy is a child fighting in the middle of a war, sweat and soot and gunpowder dusting him. Concentration on his face and sweat on his brow as he attempts to load a crossbow for what is probably the first time. Techno guides Tommy’s hands around the trigger mechanism and shows him how to load the firework without snagging his fingers and there is not a hint of a smile on his face.

A wave of shame and pride and nostalgia washes over Techno. He thinks that maybe after today Tommy and him will understand each other a little better. 

He also gets the impression that he is a terrible brother, despite the grin that Tommy gives him as he finally manages to load his crossbow correctly. But there is no time for regret as Technoblade assesses the battlefield and moves to push forward. They have a fight to win.

-

When it is all said and done, negotiations turn out to be a lot easier than originally anticipated. Who knew there isn’t a whole lot to talk about when your enemy consists of a gang of mercenaries with no political agenda and a derelict leader with fatal heart problems?

In the end, it’s really no surprise Schlatt couldn’t maintain the security and wellbeing of L’Manberg when he couldn’t even take care of his own.

Everyone is crammed inside the campervan, Techno’s cohorts and Schlatt’s mercenaries alike, circled around a corpse as Pogtopia realises that they have won. The moment isn’t celebratory, there is no climactic sense of accomplishment that comes with Schlatt’s death. Their new reality is more like a cloud of realisation that settles over the crowd. 

Even as Tommy shouts a hearty ‘We’ve won!’ in an attempt to lift the mood, there is no switch that will change a sullen truth into a true victory. The rest of Pogtopia slowly begins to shift their attitude to match his facade, but Technoblade can hear that none of their cheers -Tommy’s especially- ring true. 

Techno can’t say he enjoys the faint shade of disappointment that colours Tommy’s entire being but he also can’t truly feel bad for his brother. Maybe now he’ll understand that there is no glamour in conflict. Only two groups playing a desperate game of tug of war until somebody slips in the mud. 

The mob of people slowly make their way out of the van, meandering in a lax group of conflicted emotions. The cheer that Tommy and Wilbur try to forcibly implant in the air doesn’t quite take, but there is a slowly rising sense of relief. A tiny spark of hope for a chance at peacetime. 

The group loosely wander towards the podium square, unconsciously seeking guidance, and Techno tunes back into the increasingly energetic conversation around him as Wilbur speaks up.

“Tommy, take your place on the podium and give us a speech. Or should i say; _President Elect_ Tommy. Go.”

What. 

Time stills. It’s as if someone has pressed pause on the remote than controls Technoblade’s train of thought. 

_‘President Elect’_. He must have misheard. Or Wilbur misspoke. 

He looks around in confusion, but everyone around him continues on without skipping a beat while he stands frozen. He feels as if he’s missed a memo. Everyone around him is steadfast and sure in their actions, but he lingers in the square feeling as if there's a piece he is missing. 

He is ushered forward by the crowd towards the rows of seats below the podium as Tommy ascends to take the stand. 

He subconsciously follows the crowd. Someone is brushing past his shoulder. Hands he distantly recognise as Fundy, Eret and Tubbo try to gently push him into an empty seat as they walk past but he is unmoving. 

“Let the new President speak.”, someone says. Techno stands amongst the mass of people. He looks back. His seat is already filled. 

Tommy taps the mic. 

“Hello everyone. Well-”, he chuckles, seemingly amazed, “- it looks like we’ve won-” 

The crowd erupts into cheers and applause. Techno’s ears ring. 

They’ve won, right? They’ve won. They defeated the government. Down with tyranny and all that jazz. So why is Tommy standing on a podium. Looking down upon the former citizens of L’Manberg. It doesn’t make sense. It doesn’t make any sense.

“-and I never thought I’d get to say this -but even after the hardships, the tyranny we’ve been through- Wilbur, Tubbo, after everything… it was meant to be!” 

Why, after all that they’ve sacrificed to take down the government, why is Tommy standing on a pedestal and being called President?

Technoblade has been clear with his intentions from the start. He has shared his ideals, his reasonings, with anyone who’d ask. They all agreed. They took his help. They wanted the government gone, right? 

_‘Retake L’Manberg.’_

Retake it. 

Overthrow the L’Manberg government and instate themselves in power.

Technoblade is a stoic creature, but he is briefly so angry that he wants to cry. He wants to scream. Lash and rip and hurt and shout from the rooftops that history is repeating itself. Yell in their faces _‘Why can’t they see? Have his words meant nothing to them?’_.

The entire time he has spent helping these people, grinding away and urgently trying to turn the tides of war, have they not heard a single word from his mouth? They call him anarchist but do they still not understand the meaning of the word? Or do they simply not care?

_‘It was meant to be.’_

The pieces click into place.

The thing is, Technoblade knows his reputation. Knows that he is but a boogeyman, a figure of violence and a servant of the Blood God to all of these people. But he thought at the very least his brothers cared about what he had to say. When they asked him to help take down a government, he was sure that they took into account the morals and ideologies that he loudly proclaimed at every opportunity. 

Techno is an anarchist and his brothers know this. _Techno is an anarchist and his brothers do not care._

The realisation that this was their plan all along hits him like a freight train; the impact is too fast for him to really feel anything at all. 

There are four certain truths that unravel before him:   
1\. This entire time their definition of ‘Retake L’Manberg’ was clearly different from his own.   
2\. There is no way that they wouldn't have known this.   
3\. They have willfully kept him ignorant while taking every inch of him.   
4\. He has given all that he is to a cause he does not believe in.

It was becoming evidently clear why no one had communicated their plans to him for what came after the revolution. They knew- they _know_ what his principles are but it does not matter. He is just a tool to them. Everyone took Techno’s aid and then proceeded to defy everything he stood for in front of him without hesitation.

Maybe he’s the fool for expecting more. He is the Blade, after all, a weapon to slay your opponents and then abandon to the side when the fighting is over. Left to collect dust. Unwanted. No longer useful in peacetime. 

No one cares what a weapon’s political ideologies are. And no one asks a weapon for it’s permission to be used.

Techno only realises Dream is beside him when he feels a presence loom over his shoulder from the left. Dream inclines himself further into Technoblade’s personal space and whispers,

“Never thought I’d see you bowing to Tommy.” 

Techno still isn't quite sure what to do with the realisation that his brothers have exploited him -he's still not even fully sure he’s registering what is happening around him correctly- but Dream is looking at him, somehow conveying expectation despite the ever-present mask covering his features, so he mutters a ‘I'm not sure I like where this is going.’ under his breath and keeps his eyes forward, locked on Tommy’s form, as he brings his attention back to the speech. 

Tommy has halted for a moment, visibly scanning the crowd.

”Where’s Dream?”, he squints at the mass of people below the podium.

Dream speaks up, a little further away, but still to his left, voice booming in Techno’s ear, “I’m here. But I’m not bowing to you, Tommy.” 

The attention is suddenly drawn to Dream and Techno’s position. Techno, still processing like an old repeater but slowly finding his grasp on the situation, awkwardly states, “Oh, I'm standing. So, yeah...” 

The crowd erupts into murmurs, and Techno’s brain starts going fuzzy again. Wilbur shouts out over the unbearable noise, 

“Okay! Well, you may not bow to him, but listen to him. What do you have to say, Tommy?” 

_Listen to him_. Techno bites the inside of his cheek to keep back a bitter chuckle. That’s bold.

”Wilbur -thank you- thank you everyone for making me the President. And I- I know you said I never would be.” 

“You can be.” 

“Wilbur… I can’t be the President.-” 

Noises of surprise surround Techno from all sides whilst his shoulders droop the tiniest fraction in cautious relief. It would hurt too much to let his guard down again fully but maybe, just maybe, he got through to Tommy on some level. Maybe-

“-As much as this is everything, and this is what- this is what would’ve been everything, I’ve still got unfinished business.”

Tommy turns his gaze back to Techno’s general area in a sharp glare and he hears Dream laugh beside him.

Oh, for fuck’s sake.

Techno will admit he zones out a bit after that. He vaguely recognises the passing of the torch from Tommy to Wilbur, and he watches Wilbur make his way up to the stage with dull eyes. 

Wilbur’s subsequent denouncement of the presidency and message that ‘government is not the way to go’ is an interesting development. But he still hands off the position. And he still betrayed Techno to put Tommy in power in the first place.

At long last, they settle on inaugurating Tubbo, of all people. A 16 year old who doesn’t know what a malaphor is. 

It’s almost laughable, the amount of effort they put into sustaining the idea of a government only to practically force the leading position upon one of their residents. Maybe a lack of propensity for power in their leaders might give New L’Manberg a running start. Maybe electing a teenager without an ounce of political theory backing his ideas will come back to bite them. Either way, it’s only a matter of time. Power tends to corrupt, and absolute power corrupts absolutely.

Eventually, Techno turns away from his broodings and zones back into the speech.

”-thank you everyone, it's been- it’s been an honour!” 

The crowd set off into a final round of cheers and applause even louder than before. Tubbo pulls Tommy off to the side for a chat after ordering the festival decorations to be taken down. The citizens of New L’Manberg get to work tearing down banners and stalls. Technoblade is left standing in the middle of the rows of seats below the podium as everyone works to tear down the decorations that surround him. He looks at the people all around him, the citizens readily accepting this new future.

’Wilbur’s gone.’ Techno just barely remarks to himself before Dream shuffles back over to proposition him with another scheme.

“Team chaos?” 

Technoblade doesn’t care to correct him. To say that he is not ‘team chaos’. He has never been ‘team chaos’. His intentions and ideas have been clear from the start. He has vocalised all that he can but no one cares enough to listen. He is tired of talking to brick walls.

“Perhaps.”, he replies simply.

His former Pogtopia allies are chattering away as they take down decorations somewhere behind Techno and Dream. 

“This is a good thing. This is a good thing for the country.”, Techno hears Quackity say.

“I have your back.”, Dream whispers.

Technoblade turns, meets the beady black eyes of Dream’s porcelain mask, and nods.

In the end, there is nothing left to say. And even if there was, his peers have proven that they would not care to listen. 

Technoblade was just a weapon. All he knew how to do was hurt. Cooperation wasn’t in his blood. And he knew that there was only one way to get his point through to them; using the only asset he had. The white-hot rage that burned under his skin over the betrayal has cooled. It has tempered into something far more usable.

And so, with sand and netherrack under the nails of his shaking hands, Technoblade loads his crossbow once again. 

He aims. 

He fires.

**Author's Note:**

> shoutout to these two animations:  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jvVbaLINHk0   
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Yq7hHbsgBuI   
> for actually giving me the motivation to finish this and post it after abandoning it twice lmao
> 
> find me at:  
> https://10011011110001101011.tumblr.com/


End file.
